Bedtime books and sleepy looks
by hopefuladdict
Summary: A bit of fluff with an appearance by little Spock and my favorite childhood book. Sarek, Amanda and Gaila also stop by.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, but I love it ever so much. I make no money from this fluff.**

**A/N: No beta. I apologize in advance for any and all errors and we'll try to fix them as I find them.**

Bedtime Books and Sleepy Looks

Gaila moved as quietly as possible among her fellow cadets, all of whom were scattered about trying to rest on the floor of the tent they'd been forced to erect, while she made her way to Nyota's side. She settled down next to her friend, attempting to discern what she was working so diligently on by the light of a small torch.

The training exercise had gone terribly wrong.

"Nyota…? What are you doing?"

"I'm mending the Commander's jacket."

Gaila frowned as she looked at her friend's shaking but persistent hands as they worked to reattach a decorative button to the abused uniform jacket. It had been easy for her to determine Nyota's attraction to the Vulcan commander. Her friend couldn't seem to control her body's reaction to the man whenever he was around after all. But Gaila hadn't given much thought to the possibility that Nyota may have actual feelings for him…until now. She shifted her gaze from Uhura to the cot on the other side of the tent where the inert body of their instructor and commanding officer lay.

"I like you the way you are, but you'll be more comfortable with your shoulder strap fastened."*

Nyota's unsteady whispered words caused the Orion to shift her eyes back to her roommate again. The statement made no sense to Gaila at all, but she did not comment.

Neither of the women heard the injured Commander's quiet sigh.

Xxxx

Spock lay in his small bed, staring around his room, just as he had been for the past twenty two point four minutes, idly running his fingers through his pet, I-Chaya's fur as the animal snored beside him. Unlike the large, furry beast that took up the greater portion of his bed, Spock could not sleep. And he had _tried_.

Though Spock was only four years of age, his father Sarek had recently begun to teach him meditative techniques. Spock had attempted in the previous thirty minutes he had been in bed to utilize what he had learned, with the hopes of falling into the slumber that tonight seemed so elusive. He had not succeeded and instead took to gazing around his room while his mind spun in circles as he absently stroked his pet. His mind swirled with thoughts of his parents and what had transpired today.

Sarek was suppose to return home early this evening, after being called away to his father, Skon's estate, but still had not arrived. Spock was unsure of the reason for his father's visit to his Grandfather, but it seemed to be important and he had been pondering it endlessly in his father's absence – that is, when he wasn't puzzling over his parent's actions in lieu of the mysterious visit and his mother's resulting emotional discontent.

Amanda and Sarek's behavior toward each other this morning was an anomaly that Spock had never observed before. Sarek had received the communication from Skon, and then told Amanda he had something they must speak of and they retired to their bed chamber. His parents had had a discussion – his mother, he suspected, would call it an argument, upon entering their room. Though they had gone to the room for privacy, Spock had heard his mother's raised voice; his father's even but clipped one, from behind the closed door, but had been unable to discern what was said. After a particularly long exchange, his mother's voice escalating in volume toward the end, he had heard their door slide open and peered around the corner in time to see her emerge alone, trembling slightly, as she walked down the hall and vacated the house to disappear into her garden. Later, when Sarek passed through the house to leave, Amanda following close behind him on his way to the door, they did not speak at all. Spock had looked on, unnoticed, from the common room as his father left without a backward glance or his mother's traditional 'goodbye kiss'.

He fidgeted in his bed and wondered for the sixty third time if Sarek's meeting with Skon and the disagreement between his parents had to do with him.

Spock had watched through the remainder of the day as his mother's initial appearance of anger with his father gave way to what he eventually identified as sadness. But he did not know if she was sad because of what they had spoken of, how they had spoken to each other, or the way in which they had parted from one another's company.

All of the interactions between them after the communication with Spock's grandfather were of a nature that Spock had never been privy to and/or witnessed before and he surmised, logically, even at his tender age, that one or the other was the source of his mother's melancholy disposition. She had been quieter than usual since his father had left and Spock had twice caught her wiping tears from her eyes; she feigned something in the air, not emotional distress, had been the cause. He did not believe her but thought it best not to question her and kept silent on the subject.

He frowned into the darkness as he continued to contemplate the events of the day, then upon realizing the fact, schooled his expression to a more appropriate neutral façade.

Spock shifted his small body, closing his eyes once more and clasping his hands across his chest, trying again to wipe away the day and let sleep take him. Fifteen minutes passed with only his deep, slow breaths and the steady droning snore of I-Chaya softly sounding through the room, but it was to no avail, he was still wide awake. He sat up and pushed his blanket away, climbed over his pet, waking the animal in the process and left his room. He made his way silently down the dark hall, the sehlat rising and padding along quietly behind him.

He reached his destination and crouched low to the floor, then slid forward on his stomach to peek inside his parent's room. It appeared his father was still not home and his mother was clearly unaware of her small son lurking outside her door as she went about preparing to turn in for the night. She sat cross legged on the bench situated at the foot of the bed, brushing out her long, wavy hair. Spock could tell she was deep in thought by the distant look on her face. He thought a look of sadness still lingered there. He watched – unmoving, for several minutes, his young mind striving to settle on a way to return her to her normal state of contentment. He had yet to come to a satisfactory solution when his companion, disgruntled with his master's lack of attention to him, rolled onto his back and emitted a loud whine, giving away their position in the hall to Spock's mother.

Spock's human heritage came forward as he leveled a look of irritation and betrayal at his furry friend – who, oblivious to his owner's displeasure with him, began to squirm, vigorously indicating his desire for a good belly scratching. Regardless of the sehlat's enthusiastic wiggling the belly scratch would not be forthcoming. However a growing look of indignation from the small Vulcan was. Spock was very plainly "put-out" at his pets unending, secret-spot-revealing mischief and a disgruntled glare remained etched across his face even after his mother appeared in the door way and looked down at him."

"Spock?"

His mother's voice drew him from his occupation of yelling at his pet with his eyes and he released I-Chaya from his icy stare, clearing all emotion from his face as he looked up at her. Amanda did not respond in kind, nor would Spock have expected her too, but looked at her son with a mixture of curiosity and amusement as she knelt down to his level.

"Can't sleep?"

"No, Mother."

Amanda reached toward him and cupped his face with her hand. The sadness that Spock had seen through the day seemed to swell in her, clearly visible in her eyes. But before he could ask her the cause of it she rose to her feet and went to the closet in the corner of the room. She searched through several storage containers and then upon finding what she wanted, turned back to him. She took his hand and started back down the hall toward his room.

Spock climbed into his bed and looked up at her expectantly.

"Scooch over."

"_Scooch_, Mother?"

"Move over, Spock. Make room for me please."

Spock knew something akin to astonishment was evident on his face. His mother read to him almost nightly, but never while lying next to him. Her laughter brought him out of his shock induced stillness and he shifted to allow her to join him.

She opened a colorful, well worn book Spock had never seen and began to read as he curled into her side. It was about a toy bear for sale, passed over and considered inferior next to the other toys—as stated by a dark skinned human woman to her daughter—because it was missing a button. The girl did not seem to be troubled by the absent button…the bear's flaw, but was obedient and left with her mother without buying the animal. The bear, made aware of his faults, searched through the night for his missing button, exploring many places, so he could be deemed acceptable and worthy of the girl if she returned. The bear did not find his button, but it did not matter as the girl returned and purchased him anyway—after presenting her mother with a logical argument Spock reasoned—and offering to pay with her own credits. She was seemingly content with him regardless of his supposed shortcomings, sewing a button on him only because she thought he would be more comfortable.

Spock liked the story very much and told his mother so while he looked at her with suddenly sleep heavy eyes. He did not tell her he thought the little human girl with the dark skin and the long hair, pulled in a 'pony tail' as his mother called it, was pretty and that he wished she were his friend too.

He heard his mother say he would always be her little boy no matter what anyone said or how big he grew as she kissed his forehead and tucked his blanket snuggly around him. The statement was illogical, but Spock acknowledged and took comfort in the warmth the words provoked in him nonetheless.

The next day Sarek informed him that he was to meet and study with a new Vulcan tutor instead of his mother to prepare for his forthcoming schooling, although his mother was a teacher and perfectly adequate to perform the task herself. Spock knew this was the source of his parents quarrel and his mother's sadness. He wondered briefly if his father had, at some point in the previous day, told Amanda that Spock could not always be 'her little boy.'

Upon their first meeting his new teacher told him how _human_ his eyes were and as Spock instinctively turned his gaze from the man's scrutiny of him to stare at the floor he thought of a small, missing button and the little girl that loved despite its absence.

Xxxx

Spock took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he opened his eyes. He pushed himself into a sitting position although it was painful and took in his environment. All the cadets appeared to be asleep. Cadets' Uhura and Gaila were huddled in a corner together, apparently both having fallen asleep sitting up, leaning against each other.

He studied Nyota and noted several small cuts and bruises on her arms and face. Her hair and uniform were disheveled and though asleep, she was frowning. She also had his uniform jacket clutched tightly in her hands. He stared at it, trying unsuccessfully to remember something he had heard her say, something that had made the pain of his injuries lessen for a moment. Instead his mind only offered up the memory of the last time his mother had read one of her favorite childhood books to him as it had while he'd been in the healing trance.

Spock heard the distant roar of engines. Shuttles had been dispatched to help them and were almost there. Several of the cadets began to stir at the sound and as one bumped Nyota's outstretched leg she startled awake, quickly absorbing her surroundings albeit with a still sleepy look about her before meeting his continued gaze.

_And there, looking at him with a wide, warm smile, was the same little girl he'd seen only the day before.*_

Xxxx

"Good evening, Mother."

"Oh, Spock…you're all right." Amanda said in place of her usual greeting, slumping down in her chair in marked relief.

Spock proceeded to give her all the details of the training exercise gone awry from the previous night and the team's subsequent rescue.

When he finished Amanda sighed, wiping a tear from her cheek and telling him in turn that his father would be greatly relieved that their son was well. He looked at her intently for a moment before his gaze dropped to his hands where they rested in his lap.

"Spock? Surely you know your father would be devastated if harm were to befall his son. He has never trusted his logic where you were concerned."

"Mother, I believe father's dissatisfaction with me will only grow despite my survival of last nights unfortunate happenings."

"Why? What do you mean?"

_"__Last night I counted what I__'__ve saved in my piggy bank and my mother said I could bring you home.__"__*_

"Spock?"

"Mother, I wish to sever my bond with T'Pring."

Amanda took a moment to compose herself.

"May I ask her name?"

"It is Nyota."

End

Asterisks are direct quotes from Corduroy by Don Freeman


End file.
